


Caught Somewhere Between

by Pennygirl612



Category: White Collar
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Happy Ending, F/M, Missing Scene, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-14
Updated: 2018-10-14
Packaged: 2019-08-02 04:55:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16298540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pennygirl612/pseuds/Pennygirl612
Summary: Following dismissal of the murder charge against him for the shooting of Senator Pratt, Peter goes home to Elizabeth but struggles to adjust back to his normal life.





	Caught Somewhere Between

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own White Collar or its characters.
> 
> This story could be viewed as alternative universe or in canon as a missing scene from Season 5 episode "At What Price". I originally wrote this story as part of a five times story, but it's been reworked to stand alone.

Caught Somewhere Between

“I shot and killed Senator Terrance Pratt the man who ruined my life using Peter Burke’s gun.”

Sitting at the defense table, Peter was stunned as he listened to the voice of James Bennett. He never thought Neal would be able to find his father let alone get him to confess. Before he could contemplate just how Neal had done it, the prosecutor’s voice broke into his thoughts as he addressed the courtroom. Peter held his breath; suddenly filled with a hope that he had not felt much in the last six weeks.

“We analyzed the recording this morning and it’s been authenticated as the voice of James Bennett. With this evidence in hand, I see no other option than to drop all charges. Mr. Burke you are free to go.”

Peter remained in his seat, unable to move. He was free to go. Moments earlier, he thought his career, his life was over. He was going to be indicted and baring some miracle, he was going to be convicted of murder and sent to prison for a very long time. In the blink of an eye, all that had changed. Taking a deep breath, he stood up on shaky feet.

Stepping outside of the courthouse, Peter recognized he was still somewhat in a state of shock over the events that not only had led to his release but to incarcerating him in the first place. Even seeing Elizabeth did little to crack the wall he had built around himself in order to survive the last six weeks. He had spent that time in total isolation, segregated from the regular prison population presumably for his own protection but it felt like its own brand of punishment. It had left him all but numb. 

For her sake, he planted a smile on his face and opened his arms. She wasted no time scampering up the steps and into his arms. At the contact, Peter tried not to flinch and convey the coldness that dwelled deep within him. 

Seeing her, he reflected how different, less complicated his life had once been before Neal had entered their lives. If he had known his journey would have led him to a prison cell and nearly costing him the most important thing in his life, would he have still accepted Neal’s deal? Yet Neal was likely responsible for his release as well. James Bennett did not strike Peter as the type of person who would do the honorable thing without a very good reason and that reason would have to be to his own benefit. Peter decided it was probably for the best if he never knew what it had cost Neal. 

A fierce shiver slicing through him caused Peter to pull away from his wife. If Elizabeth was confused by the suddenness of the break or for his turning to walk straight to the car without a word, she didn’t show it and for that he was relieved. He really didn’t know what to say at the moment. He just knew he wanted to go home. Once there, maybe he could figure the rest out.

During the ride, Peter remained silent as he simply stared out the window watching the passing scenery thinking how different the view was than that of his 6 by 8 prison cell. Elizabeth, God bless her, didn’t question him instead she droned on about random, meaningless things. Strangely enough, Peter found it soothing to just sit back and listen to her voice without the need for commentary or any real thought on his part. 

After what seemed like an endless journey, they finally arrived at their townhouse. Peter exhaled a breath he hadn’t even known he was holding when he saw that the home dark and quiet. He knew his team and friends were all thrilled that he was freed. He had half expected them to be waiting for him here at the house, but celebrating was the last thing Peter wanted. 

“Thank God,” Peter whispered softly knowing he wasn’t up for company, the irony not lost upon him after spending all that time in isolation just wishing for some form of human contact.

Elizabeth must have read his mind. “No, thank Neal,” she said for the first time addressing Peter directly. “Everyone wanted to be here and welcome you but he stopped them. He said that you would want some space, need a moment to readjust. I think they balked a bit on him until he gently reminded them that he had more experience in the matter than they did.”

Not trusting himself to speak, Peter only nodded as he exited the car. Elizabeth for a moment looked as if she wanted to say more, but held her tongue and followed him up the walkway to the stoop of the house where she fished the keys from her purse and led them inside. 

Looking around, Peter found everything just as he had left it; yet it all felt different. It took him a moment to realize it was himself that felt out of place. Another shiver ran through him which he knew Elizabeth saw. Though he could tell she was trying not to be obvious about it, she was watching his every move; concern masked in her blue eyes. She was practically walking on egg shells around him but Peter just didn’t have the energy to deal with it. So when she quietly suggested he go take a shower while she fixed them some dinner, he didn’t protest only nodded before walking up the stairs. 

Entering their bedroom, a feeling of panic consumed Peter forcing him into the bathroom where he proceeded to retch up what little he had managed to eat that morning. As the dry heaves wrecked his body, Peter was thankful that Elizabeth was downstairs and couldn’t hear him. She would have felt compelled to enter and provide comfort only causing him greater pain in the embarrassment of it all. 

The simple act of stripping off his clothing sent another wave of panic through him as his mind slipped back to the intake procedure at the prison when he had been naked and vulnerable with strange hands searching him. Inhaling a slow, calming breath, this time Peter managed to swallow down the bitter acid he felt rising in the back of his throat. The shower presented its own set of miserable memories, but he forced them back into their dark hole in his brain and stepped inside not bothering to wait for the water to warm up. He accepted the cold, relished in it for at least he felt something more than hollowness inside. 

As the water turned hot so did his mood. It hadn’t been fair. The whole damn situation had not been fair. He had spent his whole life doing the right thing, chasing after and arresting those who did wrong. None of that had mattered, he thought bitterly. And then there was the effect on his wife. Elizabeth never should have been put through her misery and she certainly deserved better than the shell of the man that had come home to her. Cowboy fucking up! He raged at himself. 

Yet Peter found he couldn’t move. It wasn’t until the water turned cold again that he managed to leave the confines of the shower. To his surprise, he found a pair of boxers, sweat pants and an old college sweatshirt sitting on the vanity. So lost in his own head, he had never heard Elizabeth enter the room. He cursed out loud. If he had been so unaware of his surroundings in prison, he would have died. Then he cursed himself again for even having that thought in the first place. He was home. He was safe here. He had to put his time in prison behind him. 

Knowing he couldn’t remain upstairs forever, Peter forced one foot in front of the other and quietly entered the kitchen to find his wife seated at the table eating a bowl of soup. Beside her at his typical place sat another steaming bowl and a glass of ginger-ale. Had she heard him after all or was his wife that much inside his head or was this something else he had Neal to thank for? Had he prepped his wife on what to expect? If so, Peter found himself feeling guilty because who had been there for Neal when he had gotten out? Certainly not Peter, who had dropped him off at a dump of an apartment and left Neal to fend for himself without a second thought and he had served four long years in super-max unlike the mere six weeks Peter has just spent inside. 

Peter arrested people and moved on to the next case. He never spent too much time on what prison was like for those he arrested. Now he had his own firsthand experience and it gave him a whole new perspective on what Neal had been through. And he felt like an ass for all those times he had so casually threatened to send him back. 

Staring down at the bowl, Peter saw that it contained mostly broth along with a few noodles. Peter picked up the spoon and tentatively took a mouthful. To his relief, the chicken broth went down and stayed down. While it warmed his insides, he found he could only eat a small amount before feeling full. A cautious swallow of the ginger-ale left Peter comforted in that fact that at least his stomach was no longer rebelling against him. 

Without a word, Elizabeth picked up both of their bowls and loaded them into the dishwasher. Keeping her back to him, she busied herself cleaning up the kitchen. While she was grateful that Neal had warned her that Peter might be different, she was not sure how she was to act around him. The man who had come home wasn’t a stranger but he wasn’t exactly her husband either. Despite being home, she could tell that a large part of him was still left behind in a prison cell. It broke her heart to see Peter caught somewhere between the two worlds. 

Peter sighed as he watched Elizabeth. She was clearing struggling which only added to the guilt Peter was already feeling. “El-” Peter stopped when blue eyes focused on him. He really had no idea what to say to make any of it any better. “Is it okay if I go to bed?” he cautiously asked.

Elizabeth nodded, “Of course. It’s been a long day.” Peter saw the hesitation in her eyes, but Elizabeth kept her voice neutral when she told him that she had made the bed in the spare room in case he would feel more comfortable sleeping there tonight.

Peter wasn’t sure if it was the simple act of eating or just the emotional events of the day, but suddenly he felt drained, but the thought of returning to their bedroom had given him pause especially after his earlier reaction. Maybe it would be best to stay in the other room. Just for tonight, he told himself. Without meeting her eyes, he nodded and excused himself. 

Bypassing their bedroom, he entered the other room but he didn’t close the door behind him. He didn’t want to feel caged in. He never wanted to feel that way again. With a sigh, Peter sank down on the bed. With nothing but his boxers on, he felt the coolness of the sheets against his mostly naked flesh. 

He was still awake when he heard Elizabeth’s soft steps outside his door. He closed his eyes, pretending to be asleep. After a moment, he heard her footsteps fade away as she entered their bedroom. As he lay there, he visualized her getting ready for bed. It was something he had frequently done during his first few weeks incarcerated. But as the days had went by, Peter had stopped. What had been the point? The evidence against him was damning. Despite his trust in the legal system, he had to face the fact that he was likely going to spend at least the next 20-25 years in prison. To continue to think about his prior life with Elizabeth only added to his deep state of despair about a future lost to him.

As he continued to lay there, the thought of Elizabeth spending even one more night alone made him angry and became too much for him to bear. He was reminded that she deserved better from him. While he wasn’t sure he was ready for that closeness with her, he damn well was going to try. For her sake, he damn well had to try. Having made his decision, Peter didn’t allow himself to hesitate outside their bedroom door. He entered and before he could talk himself out of it, he promptly slid under the covers next to a very surprised Elizabeth. 

Neither said a word. In fact, Peter wasn’t sure either one of them even took a breath. He could feel her eyes on him, but Peter his eyes fixated on the ceiling above him. He wasn’t ready to see the sadness or the pity he envisioned there in her eyes. But he did recognize he was going to have to be the one to break the silence. Taking a deep breath, Peter whispered, “El, I’m here.”

She hesitated in speaking and her answer nearly broke his heart. “No, you’re not,” she said, her voice little more than a whisper in the dark. “You’re still there.”

An ache went through him not just for her but for himself. Somehow he had to find the strength to fix this. Cautiously, Peter reached out and clasped her hand. The warmth of her touch sent shock waves through him but it helped to plant him more firmly in the here and now. It provided him with the courage to speak honestly with her. “I want to be here. Help me be here with you.”

Peter heard her sharp intake of breath. “Tell me how,” she answered. 

“Love me?” Peter said, cursing the fear that came out in his voice making it sound more like a question and knowing his perceptive wife would pick up on all the doubts running rampant through his head. He tried again, this time with more conviction. “Love me.”

Elizabeth hesitated. “Are you sure?”

A bitter laugh escaped his lips before he could stop it. “No,” he admitted. 

Elizabeth didn’t move, didn’t breath. Peter knew she was weighing his words against what his body was physically displaying to her. Other than taking her hand, Peter had avoided all contact with Elizabeth since he had entered their bed. Hell, he hadn’t even been able to look at her, instead hiding within himself under the cover of the darkness in the room.

Just when he thought all was lost, Elizabeth moved. Inch by inch, she slid closer to him. She moved so slowly, he wasn’t sure if she was afraid of spooking him or only allowing him time to change his mind. Peter found himself moving towards her, inch by inch until they met in the middle. A deep breath in and out settled his spinning thoughts. He found himself turning towards her, seeing uncertainty in the eyes meeting his. He attempted a smile. Judging from her expression, he wasn’t sure he was successful. 

“Love me,” he repeated, this time his eyes never leaving hers. “Please.”

A wave of panic nearly caused him to back away when he saw her face closing in on his. But her gentle squeeze of his hand reassured him that everything was going to be okay. Soon he was lifting his lips to meet hers. She withdrew after the merest brush of contact between them. 

It wasn’t enough, Peter found himself thinking. He wanted; no he needed more. “El,” he said meaning to convey that to her, but of course she already knew. She had read it in his eyes. Her lips sought out his again, but this time she deepened the kiss, her tongue gently prying open his mouth and slipping inside. In her kiss, Peter nearly cried, feeling all her loneliness for him openly displayed in the way her mouth eagerly captured his. He felt his body responding and knew she felt it too seeing tears threaten to fall from her eyes. 

And for the first time all evening, Peter really felt present in the moment, and he had an overwhelming urgency to show Elizabeth that he really was with her now. He unclasped his hand from hers and let it wonder up and down her body. The accompanying moan from Elizabeth gave him encouragement to continue. 

Now he had a need to claim her, to be inside her where he hoped he would finally find peace in the reassurance that she was his and he was hers. Meeting his eyes, Elizabeth nodded her consent; once again seemingly reading his mind. Peter wasted no time in entering her; half scared that he would stop himself if he gave it too much thought. Slowly, almost tendering they moved together. The need for one another after so long apart was self-evident. And because it had been so long and because it felt now so very right, both found release in short order. And in that release, Peter found a part of himself restored, at least part of himself had found his way home.


End file.
